Ménage à Trois
by Neko.Otaku 15
Summary: In a world where Morgiana was made a gladiator alongside the Fanalis corps... What will be turned upside down? Is it wrong to love two people and those two people to love you and each other in return? MuXMasXMorg


Blazing crimson eyes glared forth from a dark cell as she watched a white-haired man and a gold-haired woman exchange money and deeds; for her. Thick shackles held both her wrists and her ankles as she sat up, tattered cream dress damp. The door was opened and the woman sent an orb of light at the young Fanalis.

Schezerade walked into the compound, her General carrying her latest acquisition, a young Fanalis girl.

"Masrur, I found this girl at a slave market. Please train her well." She addressed a large, stone faced man, who nodded as he walked away.

The General brought the girl to an empty room and laid her out on the cot carefully. He nodded and smiled to some, waving and laughing at others. In her room, the girl's beautiful eyes opening in anger and fear as she observed her surroundings, before another woman flew into her room.

"Yo, I'm Muron Alexius." The older woman stated a bit gruffly.

The younger girl looked at her in confusion, "Where is this?"

The other burst into laughter, "The barracks for the Fanalis gladiators. We fight, we win, or we die." She stated with relish.

"You're like me?" the girl asked childishly.

The older responded enthusiastically, "We're all Fanalis, look around!"

The girl's eyes widened as she observed the truth.

"I forgot to ask. What's your name, kid?" Muron enthused.

"Morgiana."

And thus was the start of an odd but touching sisterly relationship.

Around the compound, words were flying about the new girl. She was fifteen and fought like a demon, bringing even adult Fanalis down. Not only that, but she was beautiful, face and body like an angel's.

Every day she fought Masrur, the strongest of them all, and he beat her. Gradually she got better, stronger, and even he had a tad of trouble against her. But he would win unfailingly.

Her hair grew and she styled it like Muron's, garnering admiration from many.

Muron's rival and friend, Rohroh was not unlike an uncle or brother to the youngest Fanalis. She had the protection of many. Masrur, her teacher, Mu, the affable General, Rohroh, Murion, and a host of others.

Her quiet, determined but bright nature attracted many, even more than Mu's ever charming personality. Even her stony-faced teacher loved her- in more than a student-teacher relationship, not that she knew that. He knew that Mu loved her as well, and he was willing to share… maybe.

As she flew at him with her leg in position to break his ribs, he held up his arms and blocked the hit… and maybe looking under her dress. He blushed and continued to fight her.

"You'll do fine! You're almost as good as I am!" Muron encouraged roughly, ruffling the girl's hair. The younger pouted, but soon grinned and entered the ring as the iron gates opened.

The announcer's voice blurred as she saw the enemy, and at the signal, started running.

She flew ferociously towards the tigers, kicking one back several hundred feet before smashing it in the face with her foot and then kneeing it in the eye for an instant death. Blood soaked the sandy ground, and she whirled to take out the other three beasts.

As the announcer ended the fight, she bowed to the screaming crowd, closing crimson eyes and at her dismissal, walked back to the quarters she was assigned to. She was greeted by her mentors and the rest of the Fanalis that were scattered throughout the compound. Congratulations made her flush lightly as she found her bed, using the washing bowl and rough cloth to cleanse her dusty skin. She didn't notice her older mentor watching her.

Masrur was a Fanalis in his early twenties, older than his pupil by perhaps four or five years. She was intriguing. At her age, she was more powerful than he had been. He overheard that when the slavers were going to kill a young girl she was being held captive with; she had broken shackles meant for adult Fanalis. He had never before heard of such an occurrence. Not only that, but she was attractive in an innocent, almost childlike way. She had no lip piercing that was almost a standard for the rulers of the Dark Continent. Her red hair was silky and bright, as were her pretty, tortured eyes.

She seemed to dislike men with black hair, flinching whenever she saw one. Pale rings around her ankles revealed the truth; she was a former slave, not unlike him. Perhaps she had been abused by a man with dark hair? It made sense; Schezerade said she had rescued to girl from a slaver, after all.

Beneath all that, she seemed insecure, and very protective. He was distracted from her as he saw the commander walk in and slap her on the back, giving congratulations. She blushed slightly at the praise, giving the taller man an appreciative gaze. The man ruffled her hair as she pouched her cheeks with air in irritation at his actions, though her eyes told a different story. They laughed brightly, even as the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. He felt a twinge in his chest, watching the long-haired man and his pupil interact with each other easily.

Masrur, unfortunately, was not adept at expressing himself; especially not with words. The older male turned back to what he was doing, mask on and ignoring the world, and telling himself not to steal glances at the little one and his commander every once in a while.

Around her wrists were her old slave cuffs, chains attached. The blue woman djinn noticed they were a minion of Amon. The woman was blue and beautiful, like all djinn; her outfit was made of light blue gauze, sweeping from a golden collar around her neck to where it covered each breast and not much else; her body was clothed in a skirt that fell to her ankles, only held up by two belts of gold strung with bells. Each of her wrists and ankles were adorned with multiple bracelets and anklets of gold. She had dark blue hair in a long ponytail with even more gold strung through it.

Grinning, she tossed her hair and watched the willful, abashed girl help the men through the dungeon, and laughed. She had found her King's Candidate. Though the girl was shy, with her two men by her side, she could even become worthy enough to be king.


End file.
